#i’ll write……eventually…….one day

[sserpente]

Gifts and Roses

The other day, you saw a trend going around on the Internet where girlfriends shove some flowers into their boyfriends’ hands when they come home and then close the door on them only to then pretend their boyfriends got them for them. Now that sounds like way too much fun to pass up. Good thing Sylus is about to pick you up…

A/N: I saw this on the clock app just now and ran to write this. Have fun!

Words: 1162 Warnings: fluff

The trend was all over the Internet. It was funny if anything and your fingers were itching to try it with Sylus. For the laughs. And his reaction.

He was on his way to you now to pick you up to stay with him in the N109 zone over the weekend, spending some time with him, training together…perhaps you could even convince him to do a cheesy movie night with you.

For now, you’d found the perfect spot to hide your phone to record him. You’d strike when he was about to walk through the door. You looked at your Hunter’s Watch. Which should be any moment.

His knock came as if on cue. Confident, loud…how on Earth did he manage to make his knock sound dominant? You shook your head and quickly grabbed the flower bouquet you’d bought this afternoon. Two dozen red roses that smelled heavenly.

You giggled. Oh, you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face. Next thing he knew, you opened the door energetically only to shove the flowers in his hands.

“Good evening, ki—”

Then, you shut it in his face again before he could finish his sentence. Five seconds passed, then ten. Enough time for you to cover your mouth with your hands to stifle a hysterical laugh. You had never seen him so taken aback before. Oh, that video was going to be gold!

Finally, he knocked again. You took a deep breath before you swung it open again. He was blinking as if I’d suggested he should start a singing career. “What…the hell was that?”

“Sylus! Oh, what, flowers, for me? Oh, you didn’t have to, that’s so sweet of you! Thank you! Come on in!”

Sylus tilted his head and smirked. “Your antics are getting crazier by the day. If you wanted me to bring you flowers, kitten, all you had to do was ask.”

Your heart skipped a beat when he handed the roses back to you and kissed your cheek in greeting.

“It doesn’t count if I have to ask for them. Besides, your expression was priceless. It…was mainly because of this Internet trend so I set up my camera to—”

Sylus shut you up with a wild kiss. “You recorded me?” he asked then, hands still cupping your cheeks.

“…Yeah?”

“You are testing my patience, kitten. One of these days, you will successfully get on my last nerve and claim it for yourself.”

You grinned. “Would you like some dinner before that happens? I ordered some food for us.”

Sylus nodded. Amused still, he watched you retrieve your phone and followed you into the kitchen where you put the flowers in a vase before you grabbed the still-warm bags of food from the counter to make your way over to the dining table. Sylus had taken a seat already, one of his legs draped over his knee. He was engrossed in his phone all of a sudden and didn’t even look up when you served the food and eventually joined him.

“Busy week?”

“Hmm? No…surprisingly, it wasn’t too busy.”

“Who are you texting then? Are you sending angry emails again?” You raised an eyebrow. Sylus had a knack for terrifying people with his emails. You felt sorry for the poor guy at the receiving end of this one.

“No. No angry emails this time.”

You cleared your throat. “Okay then…I guess I’ll just start eating.”

With a start, Sylus paused and met your gaze. “Are you upset?”

“No! No, I just…I’d rather talk to you than watch you type away on your phone while we eat is all.”

He gave you an amused but honest smile, put his phone back into his pocket without another comment, and picked up his chopsticks instead.

“Thank you. Oh, I forgot to tell you! I qualified for the Senior Hunter Contest this week! The trials are starting next week. Would you…train with me a little over the weekend?”

“Were you now?” He chuckled. “I expected no less from you, Miss Hunter. Well done. Of course, I’ll train with you. But only if you listen to me when I tell you to rest. Unlike last time, hmm?”

“I passed out once, are you going to hold this against me forever?”

He leaned forward as if to make a point. “Yes.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. So…how was your week?”

You both finished your meal chatting about dubious business deals, Luke succeeding in doing a backflip for the first time and an angry email Sylus did send out on Thursday. Once you were done and you’d cleaned up, he grabbed the bag you’d packed for the weekend and beckoned you to follow him.

You had been looking forward to riding his motorcycle again all week. His affinity for ignoring speed limits (or lack thereof) aside, it was one of your favourite ways to spend time with him. The thrill that connected Sylus and you on your way back to the N109 zone was truly unmatched.

You took a deep breath when you arrived and took your helmet off, inhaling the crisp night air. You absolutely had to put ‘go for a drive’ on your weekend to-do list as well. Perhaps he’d even let you drive yourself. You rather liked the idea of him wrapping his arms around you for a change.

“Come. You’re tired.”

“No, I’m not!” Your body made you yawn before you could stop yourself. Traitor.

Sylus smirked. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to try and overthrow your sleep schedule every other weekend, kitten. I can stay up long enough for us to spend time together regardless.”

“I know but…”

“No buts.”

His large hand found your waist after he dismounted his bike himself, took your bag, and led you inside. Unlike what you had expected, however, he didn’t take you to his bedroom as usual but the guest room.

“I have some work I need to finish. I don’t want to disturb your rest.”

“I don’t mind. I like your bed better than—”

You paused when Sylus opened the door. The guest room didn’t look like you remembered it. Roses. Hundreds of them, decorating every single surface. Even on the bed, there were dozens of rose heads and the floor was speckled with fresh petals.

Your jaw dropped. “S-Sylus…”

“I had Luke and Kieran bring them to the guest room as soon as they were delivered.”

Delivered? “Wait…That is what you were doing on your phone during dinner? You ordered roses? Oh, Sylus…I feel bad now.”

“Don’t. My kitten wanted flowers so I got her flowers. And in the future…” He hugged you from behind, his hot breath ghosting over your ear. “…you better stock up on your vases, sweetie. And no more secret filming me, yes?”

You flipped around and grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I promise. But only if you stay with me until I’ve fallen asleep.”

Sylus smirked. “Deal.”

[koralinewrites]

Could you please do a Subaru and Ayato 60 headcanons, please? I liked Laito ones a lot.

Hey! Sorry this took a WHILE- I only have Ayato’s done right now, so I’ll definitely tag you in Subaru’s when I (eventually) get his done! Hope you enjoy!

60* Ayato Headcanons

*ish

Listens to MSI

Stupid best friend vibes

“Only I can bully them” with his brothers

Hits, flicks, smacks, etc. people as a sign of affection

Favorite color is red, duh

Both can be read like a book and is good at masking, somehow-

Very smart actually

Only for things he wants to be smart about though

Borderline dyslexic

Paints his nails every now and then 

Either black or dark red

Is ALWAYS making noise, whether that be tapping his fingers, his foot, humming, anything that makes any slight noise

Speaking of humming, he always hums HIS songs

If he’s not making noise, he’s fidgeting

Fiddling with his fingers, rubbing circles into his thumbs, playing with his clothes, etc.

Very adhd coded

Though it could easily be anxiety as well

Drinks alcohol even though he can’t get drunk from it

Sometimes challenges fellow students to drinking competitions and uses that to win

During basketball, can get distracted by the cheerleaders with bigger tits if the uniforms are revealing

Wants other piercings, like on his lip or nose

Believed in Santa Claus WAY longer than he should have

Actually really likes summer and the sun

The one thing he hates about being a vampire is that the sun hurts his vision

Otherwise he’d be outside in the sun almost all day every day

Has the lightest eyes of the brothers, and they shine bright in the sun

Back to his songs, he helps his brothers write theirs every now and then

Actually somewhat good at cooking

Now… baking is a different thing

Banned from the oven by Reiji

Actually has NO sense of style (mr. one pant leg 😭)

Dresses like Adam Sandler most of the time

Very affectionate person

Always touching his S/O in some way

Holding their hand, bumping knees, hand on thigh

Stupid teenager when in love

Does whatever he can to impress them

Might get with a guy, depends on the guy

Has thought about it

Hasn’t tried it yet

Hehe time for angst-

Still has nightmares of drowning

Sometimes just the sound of water sets him off, depending on his mental state

Genuinely is really worried about Laito’s and Kanato’s mental and physical health

Knows that his trauma was just as bad as theirs, but doesn’t feel like it all the time

Picks the skin around his nails and bites them

That’s why he started to paint his nails; to stop that habit

Hates himself for not being able to help Laito (even though he was a child-)

Forgives people really easily

Even if they were absolutely horrible to him

Doesn’t try in school as a subconscious rebellion against his mother (even though she’s dead-)

Doesn’t hate his brothers at all

Sure they can be annoying

But if he had to save either his life or his brothers…

He’d pick them

Wants to be closer to his brothers than he is now

Like back when they were children

Reminisces on that time when he’s alone

Sometimes cries because of how much he misses that feeling of closeness

Has both a superiority complex and an inferiority complex

Definition of “Oh No!” by Marina and the Diamonds

[loganjameshowlett]

SAME AS IT EVER WAS

01: AND YOU MAY ASK YOURSELF (WELL, HOW DID I GET HERE?)

pairing: peter parker/mutant!reader summary: you tutor peter parker. you dodge a robbery. you get run over and are somehow unhurt. all in a day's work, i guess. word count: 4.1k+

series masterlist | next installment

You were beginning to regret promising your tutoring services to Professor Sorensen. 

The early morning sky was pink outside the library’s picture windows, and you stared wistfully as you spread your things out across one of the empty tables, wishing that you were still in bed. But Sorensen was maybe your favorite professor ever, and when she stopped you after class last week and asked you to tutor for the general education English classes in exchange for a meager pay and some extra points on your final essay, you didn’t have the heart to tell her no. 

You couldn’t imagine, though, what kind of linguistically-inept STEM major would be desperate enough for tutoring to schedule an appointment with you at eight o’clock on a Wednesday morning. You kind of wanted to beat them over the head with your laptop. Instead, you took a searing gulp of your coffee and opened your current required reading for Sorensen’s class. If you were going to be up this early, you might as well make some use of the time beyond tutoring. 

“Excuse me,” a voice calling your name cut through the otherwise silent main reading room of the library a few minutes later, and you looked up to find a tall boy with messy brown hair standing at the other side of your table. He had a frayed backpack slung over one shoulder, and a look of exhaustion in his brown eyes that was very familiar to you. “Am I in the right place for Professor Sorensen’s English tutoring?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, shutting your book and briefly glancing down at the email from Sorensen open on your laptop to catch his name. “Peter Parker?” 

“That’s me,” he nodded, offering a small smile as he slid into the chair to the right of you. 

“So, you’re taking Beginnings of American Lit with Professor Liu, right?” you asked, checking the email once more. 

“Yeah. She’s kind of a tough grader, and if I don’t score an A on my next essay it’ll fuck with my GPA,” Peter explained, glancing over at you sheepishly as he dug through his bag, eventually producing a thin stack of rumpled papers. “I was hoping we could edit this one together? Maybe you’ll be able to explain what she’s looking for, ‘cause I really don’t know.” 

“Yeah, Liu is… particular, but not impossible,” you told him, reaching forward to slide the essay toward you. “Luckily, I’ve taken her twice, so I think I’ll be able to help.”

“Oh, thank god. I was starting to feel hopeless,” Peter said, and you couldn’t help but snort at the complete earnestness in his voice.  

“So, I take it you’re not a humanities major,” you observe, and Peter laughs, shaking his head. 

“Definitely not. I’m a chemistry major, actually. Science has always come easily to me, but writing not so much. S’why I put off taking my literature requirement until Junior year.”

“That’s what I did with my lab science requirement,” you said. “And now I’m struggling through a biology lab that might actually kill my GPA. Okay, so, your intro paragraph looks pretty good. Thesis is solid. I think your trouble is probably in the body– Liu is a real stickler for thorough analysis of quotes and citations. And by thorough, I mean extensive to the point of near-redundancy.” 

“Alright, I already know I’m gonna have to beef up the middle, in that case,” Peter sighed, taking the first page of his essay to look over the few line edits you had penned in with red ink. “Hey, about your biology lab. I can help, if you want. As a thank you for helping me with Liu’s class.” 

“Yeah? That’d be a lifesaver, honestly,” you said, raising your brow at him. “I don’t really know anyone in the department to help me find a reliable tutor. Not that I know you’re a reliable tutor. You could be a really shitty chemist, for all I know.” 

Peter let out a theatrical gasp, bringing a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “I’ll have you know that I’m a very good chemist. And, lucky for you, a perfectly average biologist. Good enough to get you to pass that lab with an A, I bet.” 

“Well, then, I’m gonna hold you to that, Mr. Parker.” 

“Just Peter’s fine. Mr. Parker makes me sound geriatric.” 

“Okay, Peter,” you hum. “Look, this quote you have at the top of this paragraph? It’ll be really easy to beef up your analysis if you introduce how it speaks on gender roles in American culture at the time. In fact, you could probably get a whole extra paragraph out of it, if you provide enough context.” 

“Would you mind writing that in the margin? I’ll forget otherwise,” Peter asked and you complied, writing the potential edit in small, neat letters next to the paragraph. “If you’re free Friday afternoon, we could go through some of your biology work.” 

“I actually am free then,” you said, eyes roaming over the last paragraph of his essay. You scribbled a few notes and line edits in, before stacking the pages neatly and sliding them back towards Peter. “Tell you what, you make the edits we talked about today, and we can go over the next version of your essay then, too, yeah? Make sure it’s up to Professor Liu’s standard?” 

“You’re an angel,” Peter said, glancing up from where he was absorbing your edits to shoot you a grin. “Hey, sorry to be so abrupt, but I gotta run. How does same spot, two o’clock on Friday sound?” 

“Works for me. Thanks for volunteering to help, Parker.” 

“ ‘Course. We should exchange numbers, in case anything comes up. I never check my email,” Peter said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. He passed it along to you, the contacts page opened, and you entered your information, sending a text to yourself so you had his information in return. 

“See you Friday,” you smiled, handing the phone back to him. 

“Friday,” Peter confirmed, taking a few backward steps away from the table before turning around. He glanced over his shoulder once more, waving, before he disappeared into the hall. 

***

“God, this shift couldn’t be any fuckin’ slower,” Mickey groaned, dropping her head against the bodega’s countertop. Her red curls fanned all around her head, dripping over the edge of the counter. 

“Closing shift is always slow, Mick,” you reminded her, leaning against the wall with your arms folded over your chest. The thick of the after work rush had been over for about an hour, leaving the bodega deserted, aside from the two of you and Gary, the ancient orange bodega cat. 

“Dontcha ever just wish somethin’ interesting would happen around here?” she asked, picking her head up in order to blow a big pink bubble from her lips. 

“Interesting things happen in this city every day,” you countered. “Spider-Man fights some new fuckin’ loser every week, man, and that’s just him. Daredevil broke Mrs. Llewellyn’s kitchen window, like, four days ago.” 

“That shit’s not interesting anymore; you said it yourself, it happens every day,” Mickey said, stepping around the counter to pretend to organize the shelves. “Tell you what’d be interesting: if we found out who Daredevil or Spider-Man or any of the others are beneath the mask. And if not that, I’d settle for Daredevil crashing through my bedroom window tonight. That man is fine.” 

“How would you know? Nobody’s ever seen his face.” 

“He’s built, baby. That’s how I know,” Mickey scoffed. 

You shrugged. “I’d rather the cape types stay away from my bedroom window. Or my general vicinity. I’ve got enough going on between class and this job and tutoring without getting involved in one of their situations.” 

“Oh come on, you’re telling me the thought of some sexy superhero literally crashing into your life isn’t appealing at all?” 

“No, dude. I don’t want the drama. Or, I’m sorry, the adventure,” you doubled down. “You can have it.” 

“Amen,” Mickey nodded. “I hope Daredevil heard you say that somehow.” 

Before you could respond, the mostly quiet night was cut through with the sound of police sirens, loud and close and then fading slightly as they passed down the street. 

“Wonder what’s going on,” you murmured, craning your neck to follow the red and blue lights down the block. 

“Whatever it is, I hope a man in tights responds to it.”

“God, Mickey, you are incorrigible,” you groaned, turning away from the window and grasping the handle of the broom, looking for something to do. 

“Don’t use your fancy English major words on me, woman.” 

“Incorrigible is not a fancy–” you started, but were cut off by your phone ringing in your pocket, the specific song you assigned to Mr. Browne, your boss. 

“Hey, bossman, what’s up?” you asked, answering. Concern laced your voice; it wasn’t like Mr. Browne to call during closing shift. He trusted you and Mickey not to burn the place down, and his watching reruns of Jeopardy! time was basically sacred. 

“Honey, listen,” his gruff voice filtered through the speaker. “I want you and Mickey to close up and go on home now.” 

“What? Why? There’s still an hour until closing,” you asked, furrowing your brow. 

“I just saw on the news that there’s a robbery going down in the neighborhood, and I don’t need you girls getting caught up in any danger, okay?”

“Oh, guess that explains the police cars,” you said, more to yourself than to him. 

“You see? Lock up and get out of there,” he said, his voice firmer. “And no dilly-dallying, you hear? I got a bad feeling.” 

“Okay, Mr. Browne, you got it. We’ll close up now and go straight home,” you promised. 

“Good. Just feed Gary before you go.” 

“Will do. G’night, bossman,” you said, before hanging up the phone. 

“What’s that all about?” Mickey asked, brushing a piece of her wild hair away from her face. 

“Apparently those police cars that went by are responding to a robbery in the neighborhood,” you informed her. “Mr. Browne wants us to lock up and go home now before we get caught up in any of the trouble.”

“Must be my lucky day,” Mickey grinned. “You get the keys, I’ll feed Gar.” You did as she said, retrieving the keys, your jacket, and your bag from behind the counter. Already, you were lost in thoughts of going home and crashing immediately in bed. You had been out and about for over twelve hours that day already, and you were practically asleep on your feet. You had half a mind to walk down the block and thank the robbers for cutting your shift short. 

A minute later, the two of you were standing out on the sidewalk. You could hear shouts and the sirens as more police responded to the scene, even the drone of a news copter overhead. The robbery must be closer than you expected, and maybe a bigger problem than you were assuming, too. There was a bank two blocks down and one over; you wondered if it was all going down over there. 

“Alright, text me the minute you get home,” Mickey said sternly. 

“You, too,” you responded. The two of you lived in opposite directions, so you wouldn’t have the comfort of each other’s company on the walk home. 

“We’ll be fine,” Mickey responded with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I bet the neighborhood is safer than usual– bet nobody else will try shit with the place crawling with so many cops. But still text me when you get home, got it?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She pulled you into a quick, tight hug before waving and heading down the block towards home. You turned in the opposite direction, back towards your apartment in Hell’s Kitchen. The night was cool for the beginning of October, and you pulled your flimsy zip-up tighter around your middle, hiding your hands deep in the pockets. Your head swam with all the things you needed to do for the week, wondering if you should get a jump on some of it with your newfound hour of free time, or actually give yourself a rest for once. You were leaning toward the former; if you hurried, you could probably finish the reading you started at the library before Peter showed up, and the corresponding question set. 

With that thought in mind, you cut through a nearby alley, shaving off a block from your walk. You wouldn’t normally, but you had a feeling that Mickey was right, the high concentration of cops in the area would deter any other criminals. Probably you’d be fine. You stuffed your earbuds in your ears and pressed play on whatever had last been going, lost in thought as you tried to plan the rest of your week around class and work shifts and your new tutoring session with Peter. 

As you cut through a second alley, bringing you just half a block from home, chin tucked in and head down against the wind, you didn’t hear the squeal of tires as they turned around a corner and sped down the street you were just on. You didn’t hear as they abruptly turned into the alley, doors scraping against a dumpster. The hair-raising screech of metal on metal finally cut through your music, and you turned around just in time to find a large, black SUV barrelling straight towards you. 

There was nowhere to go. The alley was hardly wider than the car itself, and fear or shock or some horrible mix of both at the sight of it coming toward you had rooted you to one spot on the wet asphalt. 

Fuck. I am about to die, you thought as you stared down the headlights, so bright you couldn’t see whoever was driving the thing. 

The next ten seconds– because, really, it couldn’t have been any longer than that– occurred in a blur. The impact, your body on the wet ground. Front right tire crushing over your torso, the back tire following half a second later. Vaguely, with the small part of your brain where synapses still seemed to be firing, you knew there must be immeasurable pain, but all you felt was cold and static. There were too many things happening at once, too many pains and thoughts all garbled together that you couldn’t feel or register any of it. 

You laid there, staring up at the dark, gusty sky, expecting death to collect you at any moment. When, after several minutes of slow blinking and shallow breathing, you were still alive, you figured you might have experienced a miracle. Maybe the tires had passed over you in just the right way to preserve your life? Not that you thought such a thing was possible. Getting crushed by a speeding SUV felt like a very final kind of thing. 

Slowly, your senses started coming back to you. Hearing first, as you registered sirens rushing past at the mouth of the alley. You grimaced, tensing as you waited for them to also cut down the alley and actually kill you this time, but they passed by without incident. The pain started next: a horrible, dull ache across your ribs and a sharper, prickling kind of hurt along your shoulder blades, but nothing like you thought you should have been experiencing. You were worried that it was still all a trick of the mind, that you’d muster up the courage to lift your head and look down to take stock of the damage and find your torso resembling roadkill more than anything human. But you couldn’t lay there forever, you reasoned, and so went to work testing appendages to see if they were in order. 

You wiggled your fingers and toes first, surprised, frankly, that you were able to do so. If you could wiggle your toes, everything below your ribs must still be connected to everything above your ribs. Good sign. You bent your arms at the elbow next, which reignited the flame of pain in your shoulder blades, but they moved fine otherwise. Bent your knees, turned your head from side to side. You were… okay, you concluded. Physically not dying in a dirty alley, at least. 

A jolt of effort, and you sat up all the way, despite the protest of pain across your ribs and shoulder blades. Looking down, you took stock of the dark tire track running across the front of your sweater, but more importantly, the very uncrushed nature of your ribs and internal organs. 

“How the fuck,” you muttered to yourself, brushing your hands tentatively down your front. The contact of your palms against your middle was like irritating a nasty bruise, but that was it. That was… impossible, you were pretty sure. Maybe you could gaslight yourself into believing it was if it had been some tiny, dinghy little car that had run you over, but it was a fucking monstrous SUV. 

Blinking, you reached back toward the wall behind you and used it to hoist yourself up onto your feet. A terrible panic was creeping up on you now, and you preferred to deal with that in the privacy of your bedroom, not on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. As you turned to stumble your way out of the alley, you noticed something else: the pavement beneath where you had fallen was crushed in a peculiar shape, almost like wings and six feet across. 

“What the fuck,” you said, louder this time. Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck. This situation was getting stranger by the second, and you were pretty sure you were about to experience a mental break, if you weren’t already. 

Maybe I actually am dead, and none of this is happening right now, you mused as the alley spat you back out on the street. Your feet headed in the direction of your apartment on their own accord, your mind caught up in bright headlights and wing shapes stamped into asphalt. A horrible headache was building behind your eyes, and all you wanted was to get to the safety of your own home, dead or not. 

The walk seemed to take an eternity in your dazed state, but eventually the familiar redbrick corner building that had been your home for the last two years loomed in front of you. You fumbled in your jacket pocket for your key, gripping it in your shaky fist as you punched in the key code to the front door. Up four flights of stairs, a fight with the apartment door as the lock rejected your key like always. You went through the motions in a dream state, so many thoughts tumbling through your head, but none of them sticking. Before opening the door, you shucked off your sweater and balled it up in your arms, in case either of your roommates were up and about. You really had no idea how you’d be able to explain the tire tracks across the front. 

Inside, the lights were dim and a Bob’s Burgers rerun was playing at low-volume on the little television. An electric blue pixie cut shot up over the back of the couch at the sound of the opening door. 

“You’re home early,” your cousin, Winona, called to you. “What’s the deal?” 

“Uh…robbery. Down the block. Mr. Browne wanted us to leave early to be, um, safe,” you stammered out, toeing your shoes off at the door. Each subtle movement sent more pain lancing through your ribs, and you struggled to keep a straight, unbothered face. 

Winona wasn’t convinced. After living together for two years and knowing you since birth, she was familiar with all of your little idiosyncrasies. She could tell when you were just a little irritated, so of course she could tell when you… well, when whatever the fuck just happened, happened to you. Her thick, dark brows drew in until they met at the center, brown eyes narrowing as she scrutinized you. 

“What’s going on with you?” Your cousin was not one to beat around the bush. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, skirting around the question.

“Somethin’s wrong with our girl?” a sleepy voice called from the other end of the couch. A second later, Odie’s head of wild brown waves popped up over the back of the couch. Winona’s best friend since grade school and your other roommate, she was extremely protective over you. Always had been, since she met you when you started freshman year at Midtown High and she and Winona were seniors. 

“There’s nothing wrong,” you huffed. Even that extra expansion of your lungs caused the pain to flare. “I’m just tired. It was a long day.”

Winona frowned at you, clearly disbelieving. “I made lasagna earlier. You hungry?” 

“Ate a bunch of junk at work with Mick. But I’ll bring some with me for lunch tomorrow,” you promised, and wrenched open your bedroom door and disappeared behind it before either of them could question you further. You pressed yourself against the door once it was closed, then jumped away quickly as the action sent an explosion of pain through your shoulder blades. You’d forgotten about it that fast. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, closing your eyes against the burning of tears suddenly threatening to come. “Oh, god. What the fuck. What the fuck.” 

What was even the next move? You couldn’t very well go out there and tell Winona you’d been crushed by an SUV earlier in the night. Nothing about your current state would corroborate the claim, why would she, or anyone else, believe you? And honestly, that was the least of your worries. More pressing issues: why weren’t you crushed by the SUV? Why weren’t you fucking dead? What was up with the weird, wing-shaped damage in the street below you? What had actually happened in that alley?

Something was deeply, deeply not right. You could feel the wrongness of it all buzzing through every inch of your body. You knew that the feeling would overwhelm you if you let it, and you were dangerously close to just sinking to the floor and letting it take you. 

Your phone buzzed in your back pocket. Opening your eyes, you fished it out and brought the too-bright screen to your eyes. 

Make it home okay? The text from Mickey read. 

No, you wanted to say. Got hit by a fucking car but somehow I think that might be the least of my problems. I think something’s really wrong. 

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, but of course you didn’t type it. You shot off a text confirming that you did– because really, you supposed, you did get home okay in some sense of the word– and asked if she did, too. 

After Mickey texted back that she did get home safe, you set about the task of peeling off your uniform. Every movement hurt like a bitch, and you reminded yourself every five seconds that you should be grateful for the pain. You didn’t even have a single broken bone. You weren’t dead. You could handle some aches and bruising. 

You worked your jeans off first, then your shirt and bra, heaping them in the corner of your room and plucking a random t-shirt and pajama shorts out of your drawer. Before pulling on the t-shirt, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror tucked in the corner. As you suspected, a thick line of bruises was already purpling along your ribs, the width of a car tire. You sighed, turning to see how far they stretched on either side and paused when your back came into view. 

Two thick lines of what looked like red, irritated scar tissue traced along the lines of your shoulder blades. It looked as though someone had surgically cut them open, and recently. You brought a hand to your mouth, suppressing the gasp threatening to worm its way out. You felt like all the crap you ate at work was about to make a reappearance. 

Those certainly hadn’t been there this morning. You would know: you stood naked in front of this very mirror after your shower, sleepily trying to pick out your outfit. The skin of your back had been smooth, unscarred. Obviously. You would have remembered if you had gone through something that would have resulted in scars like this. 

“Okay, no,” you muttered, throwing the t-shirt over your head as quickly as possible in your bruised, hurting state. This was all too much to deal with in one night, you decided suddenly. You were tired and hurting and you had a busy fucking day tomorrow, damn it. 

You pulled your blankets back and turned off the light, climbing gingerly into bed. Maybe if you were lucky, you would wake up in the morning to all of this having been some wild fucking nightmare. Not that you were ever that lucky.

[mrskreideprinz]

| A Haunting Face |

Ruan Mei x Gn!Reader | Minors do not interact

Warnings: Gender neutral reader, Very Selfship coded, First Meet, No gender descriptions for reader, No pronouns for reader, Fluff, 1.7k words.

A/n: I wanted to write a fic for how me and Ruan Mei meet in our selfship, so I wrote it 👍🏻 I plan on writing more about this selfship because this was the most fun I had writing something in such a long time. I may make this a small series of one shots related to each other so keep that in mind too.

Summary: When Asta sends you on what was supposed to be a quick errand you end up lost in the seclusion zone, and come face to face with a certain someone.

It’s unusual to think about the first time you met Ruan Mei now. A smirk creeps on your lips as you turn the page of an all too familiar book. Although you enjoy the present there is no harm in reminiscing. You let out a soft sigh as the pleasant memories flood through your mind.

One Year Ago

“This is a mess.” You threw your head back and groaned. “How am I supposed to find the paperwork with all this-“ you grabbed a forgotten file envelope and tossed it to the side “-junk in the way?”

The girl behind you, Asta, rubbed the back of her head and chuckled nervously. “Sorry. I’ll have someone clean it up after you find it.”

You turned your head to look at her. “If I find it.” You returned your gaze to the task at hand with a groan. “Why do you need the records anyway?”

Asta helped you look through a nearby file cabinet that had collected dust. “Beats me. All I know is that Madame Herta wants it brought to her by the end of the day.”

You searched through file after file while thinking back on what Asta had told you before about those records.

“I don’t know much of the details. All I know is that Madame Herta was adamant that she needed it by today.”

“What does she need the records for if you don’t mind me asking?”

“That I cannot disclose. I’m sorry.”

Weird, you thought.

Shuffling through another file cabinet you came across a rather aged and odd looking folder, and just as you were about to open it Asta snatched it from your hand.

“You found it!” She exclaimed, hugging it close to her chest with a satisfied hum. “Thank god, I was so sure I’d have been toast if we didn’t find it.”

You grinned and gave Asta a look.

She waved and chuckled nervously. “I mean.. Thank you for finding it.”

You stood up from your kneeling position to brush off the dust and dirt that had collected on your pants. “So, is that all then?”

Asta stood up and smiled awkwardly. “Well..”

You sighed, putting a hand on your hip. “Alright, spit it out.”

“Okay, so the truth is I need you to grab one more thing for me.” She admitted.

You raised a brow playfully as you waited for her to continue.

“I need you to talk to a researcher named Emily down in the control center on the storage zone, from there she will give you the rest of the instructions. If you have any problems just say that Asta sent you, but you shouldn’t run into any difficulties. I’ve already debriefed her that this might’ve been a possibility.”

You sighed dramatically and flashed Asta a smile. “If I must.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you! You’re a lifesaver!” Asta exclaimed.

After Asta gave you a hug as thanks the two of you went your separate ways and you headed towards your destination. It had been a while since you had to make your way down there and admittedly you ended up getting a little lost in the process, but you eventually found your way there. Or at least you thought you had.

“Where the hell..” You mumbled to yourself.

Looking around you were sent down a bunch of twists and turns after taking the elevator to what was supposed to be the storage zone, but you didn’t recognize any of your surroundings. You eventually stopped at a wall to look at the map of the space station again. Surely, there must’ve been some explanation for all of this.

Just as you had given up and decided to try finding your way back to the elevator, you spotted a lit up door nearby that looked promising. As it opened up you entered a room that you had most certainly never been in before. Taking a quick look around you saw no one and barely anything out of the ordinary. Until you heard meows by your feet.

Looking down you saw what looked to be a creature resembling a cat. You couldn’t help but smile as you looked at it, it was quite precious after all.

“Well, hello sweetheart.” You cooed, kneeling down to pet it gently.

The cat purred and trusted you almost instantly. A part of you wished you could take it home with you, but something told you that wouldn’t be right. You gave it an apologetic smile before moving forward.

“I’m sorry, bubbie.” You said as you gave the creature a few goodbye pats.

Continuing on with your investigation you soon noticed that there were quite a few of those cats lying around the room. Although what really caught your attention was a lone figure off in the corner of the room, doing something you couldn’t get a glimpse of. Finally, you thought. You had been relieved to see someone else in this vacant zone aside from you.

Walking at a quick pace you called out to the person, explaining your situation as you eventually came face to face with the stranger. It was a woman whose face you swore you’d seen before, but that would be ridiculous and impossible. The woman ended up paying you hardly any attention as if she was hoping you’d simply leave her alone, but that was not what happened.

“I’m so sorry, I’m trying to find the storage zone and..” You had begun to explain to the stranger your situation and where you were supposed to be, but still she seemed to pay you no mind.

The woman finally stopped what she was doing to look at you. “You shouldn’t be down here.” She sounded disappointed.

“I know and I sincerely apologize for that, but if you could just help me get out of here then I would- O-Okay, you’re touching my face.. Why are you touching my face?” You stammered.

“Just a simple work habit of mine. It helps me understand people better.” She explained.

She tilted your face side to side and then moved her fingers so that they rested underneath your chin. Looking deep into your eyes she analyzed you, taking every part of you with her as she became suddenly fascinated by you. Finally she removed her hand from your face and tilted her head as if to study you.

“Your name is..” As she spoke your name you felt a familiar feeling tug at your heart. “..Correct?”

You nodded, still not quite listening to what she was saying. Where had you seen her before? Have you ever seen her before? You were sure if you knew her name it would all click into place.

She smiled at you upon your approval of your name.

“What’s your name? Miss..?” You nearly blurted it out. On one hand you felt a little guilty but on the other you were losing patience just waiting for her to say it.”

“You can just call me Ruan Mei.” She replied with a smile.

Ruan Mei, you thought with a smile.

“That’s a beautiful name.” You said, not realizing what you had said until hearing the words come straight out of your own mouth.

Ruan Mei smiled and chuckled to herself.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You said rubbing the back of your head. “I don’t know why I said that. I mean- !”

You leaned back against the counter with your hand and had somehow knocked over a tray filled with (thankfully) empty vials. In your effort to reach down for them you somehow lost your balance just in time for you to fall into Ruan Mei’s arms. Admittedly that wasn’t the first time that had happened. You remembered how Herta had to leave strict instructions for you to stay out anywhere with fragile objects to avoid the fiascos that so often occurred, but in front of Ruan Mei had to be the worst time of all for your clumsiness.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You panicked.

Ruan Mei helped you back into an upright position, seemingly unbothered by your clumsiness even with every one of those vials shattered.

“It’s alright.” She reassured you with a gentle expression.

“B-But I broke the- and I was such a fucking clutz!” You knelt down to clean up the mess. “Let me make this right.” But you were quickly and carefully yanked back up by Ruan Mei.

“Careful.” She said sternly. “Plus, there’s no need. It’s just broken glass after all, I can get new ones quite easily.” She replied reassuringly, watching as your expression of dread slowly vanished into some sort of relief. “Besides, those weren’t mine anyway, and whoever’s it was mustn't have cared much considering how long they’ve been sitting down here.”

You blinked at her and then chuckled nervously. “Oh, okay then.”

Although Ruan Mei could feel the embarrassment in your voice she smiled regardless. Being pleased with herself that you had trusted her word.

“You said you needed to find your way to the storage zone? If so, I can still take you up on your request and lead you there.” She suggested.

Her words didn’t soak in until a few moments passed but once they had you nodded with a big smile on your face, one that you tried dearly to not show so obviously.

“Yes! I would love that, thank you.” You replied gleefully.

“Alright, then allow me to clean up the broken glass and we can be on our way.”

The both of you smiled at each other. You knelt down to help her clean up the glass and before you knew it the mess was entirely gone. It seemed as if disaster had never struck at all. Eventually the both of you made your way to the storage zone, and as you walked there you couldn’t help but smile as Ruan Mei talked about various things that she shared with you. It was true that you had only just met her but you couldn't help but feel like you’d been in her presence before, but you would’ve remembered feeling that warmth. There was no way you could forget such a lovely feeling.

[partysheart-archived]

hi, i’m rarely here but mike is the little spoon no matter who he cuddles with, thanks!

[notherpuppet]

I KNOW YOU USUALLY DRAWING RADIOAPPLE BUT I JS WANNA SAY I LOVE HOW YOU DRAW ALASTOR AND HUSKS RELATIONSHIP THE TOXIC OLD MAN YAOI IS AMAZING!!!!!11

I’M MULTISHIPPER AF

I know the majority of my fanart is radioapple (I just think of too many antics for them haha) but I like to travel on many ships 🚢

I am limited by my drawing hand and the hours in a day 😭

[enkimesh-truther]

image via @ xelarale on twitter / @xelarale on tumblr

I’m literally never active on twitter but my friend sent me this picture and… omg! I wrote a fic just like this!

Here is the link if you’d like to read it :)

Happy pride month to all t4t relationships!

[shepscapades]

"You've seen his eyes through the visor and the bottom half of his face" Sheeeeeppp! My brain didn't come with a darn graphics card (I have aphantasia) so I won't know what the pretty man looks like until the day you face reveal him help. The bit is hilarious though and I respect that cup of tea even as I resnt it lmao

NAUUU no it’s okay I get you, I don’t have aphantasia but I definitely wouldn’t be able to put a solid image of his face together if I were yall either LMAO dw jokes aside you will see his face one day

[jgracie]

Jason x a daughter of apollo is the only thing on my mind omg

I LOVEEEEE THIS COMBO SM ANON STOPP 😭😭😭 golden boy x golden girl my beloveds 😣 both children of weather related gods 😣 jason can’t help but gravitate towards her and as a joke one time she goes “ur so obsessed w me” and he looks her dead in the eyes n spouts some stuff ab how the world revolves around the sun so how can’t he ?!????? they write poems to each other and he could listen to her talk for an eternity ab lit everything fr

[chibishortdeath]

Wait nvm my bad I lied, I do have something for Valentine’s Day—

(Other doodles under a cut)

Also I just found out what the alt text feature does :0. I didn’t notice it before (TwT ;)7. I’m gonna try it out and see how it works! I’ll just uh translate my awful handwriting outside of it here: the third image in this section says “(telling him the whole Bloodborne lore)”.

Okie dokie, Happy Valentine’s Day, I am gonna be celebrating by not doing a whole lot lol

[luuxxart]

continuing my x-files obsession with a very loose shiromura plot about alien hunting (but it’s not actually abt the aliens)

[dvrcos]

is it possible?? Another Kevaaron shipper???

Oh yes yes yes I am huge on kevaaron!! Those are my boys I love them so much and I think their dynamic is so fun and interesting

(even if it doesn’t totally make sense in canon it’s okay because I’m delusional and I can make it make sense)

[iamtired10]

Waiting for your yandere hanni fic to drop🙏

I SWEAR I WILL 😭 BUT I JUST CAN'T WRITE DARK STUFF RN. IT'S LITERALLY BEEN HALFWAY FINISHED AND SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR WEEKS. SOMEONE ELSE PLEASE COME AND FINISH IT FOR ME I’M BEGGING!

[wolftoken]

I would like to apologize for the previous ask i just needed to share and you were the first blog that i came across lmfaoo

but anon what if i wrote a fic about it :3 what would you do then :3 :3 :3

[stergeon]

🌻💡💌

🌻 How often do you read your own fics?

uh well immediately after i post a fic, i re-read it like three times because, inevitably, i will find a zillion mistakes i somehow missed in my previous fifty rounds of editing. then i will be unable to look at the piece for a month or two. after that i’ll remember it exists and do another round of edits. usually this is the most extensive edit as i’ve had enough time away from the work to realize where and how i was talking out my ass. sorry to anyone who reads my stuff before this happens lmaoooo i hope it’s stomachable!!

after that, i can (usually) bear to look at the fic again and i’ll remember i wrote it for me and that’s why it contains all kinds of stuff i like lol. i’ll re-read and do nitpicky edits maybe once a month or so. more if i’m proud of it.

💡How many WIPs do you currently have?

ummmmm. let’s see. in no particular order, i’ve got a good chunk of progress goin’ on these right now:

the victors; the vestiges. chapter four is so close to being done but i have to keep touching it and touching it.

recognition chapter 3. this chapter is technically smut, but rather unsexy smut. twin character studies in a smut wrapper. apologies to anyone who’s subscribed to that as i have no idea if i’ll ever be brave enough to publish it.

yet-untitled edeleth smut that is purely about sex for sex’s sake. i’m having too much fun with this one

very angsty fic about byleth’s first days in enbarr

morrowind reincarnation-slash-modern au

a way too ambitious nerevoryn fic i’ll don’t think i will ever finish

that casphardt fic i promised you ten thousand years ago OOPS!!!!!

i’m also dreaming about doing a political drama set in fhirdiad just after the war but i’m not sure if i have the brain or historical chops to pull it off. maybe someday.

💌 Is there a favorite trope you like to write?

hmmm. i don’t think so? i really enjoy writing and exploring established relationships, but i wouldn’t say it’s necessarily my favorite as i enjoy writing non-romantic stuff, too. thematically, my favorite thing to write about is devotion. i’m pretty much always writing about devotion or grief (usually both).

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

tfw someone writes the exact fic you wanted to write/read/spent months crafting but its smutty so therefore you cannot enjoy it *eye twitching emoji*